Life is Lifing: Why You’re Still the Prize

Well, it’s another Sunday night, you guys. The dishwasher is humming, the counters are (mostly) crumb-free, and the meal prep for the week is officially done.

First of all, sending a heart-shaped thank you to everyone who ordered this week! Seriously, every time a notification pops up, it’s like a little shot of caffeine for my soul. You guys keep this dream alive, and I say it all the time, but I am so grateful you let me be a tiny part of your weekly routine.

But tonight, I’m sitting here with my feet up, finally breathing for a second, and my brain is doing that thing where it starts replaying the week like a movie reel. It was one of those weeks where "life was lifing" in the most unexpected ways, you know?

The weekend was rough. Was anyone else feeling meh? I spent Saturday morning sprawled on my bedroom floor feeling like my existence had dissolved into a bowl of lukewarm soup. If you’ve been there or if you’re there right now, hey, and welcome to the club. You aren’t alone.

But honestly, that feeling of being wrung out is exactly why Monday’s lunch hit me so hard. It was like the universe decided I needed a perspective shift. I had deliveries and then scooted up to Nashua to grab lunch with my mom (is it just me, or does food always taste better when you're catching up with your mom?), and we ended up meeting with my former pastor. Note that I haven’t been to church in years but he really was just the best.

Seeing him was like a total glitch in the matrix. He represents a version of me that feels like she lived a thousand years ago.

The Lunch That Triggered the Time Travel

Back in the day, before the shop, before the endless cheese, before the "where did I put my keys" daily struggle, I used to do a bunch of mission trips to Honduras. And I’m talking real trips, not just "stay in a hotel and paint one wall" trips.

We were deep in it. We funded scholarship programs, we built walls to keep the children safe and we ran a little healthcare program, and we made these custom bags for all the littles. We’d fill them with essentials and teach them how to take care of themselves, basic hygiene, health, all the stuff we totally take for granted here.

When "Life Was Lifing" (Hard)

My pastor wanted to catch up because those trips were obviously postponed when the world hit the "pause" button during the beginning of Covid. He showed us slide shows of construction that took years, all the current students and graduates from the scholarship programs we provided over the years. He was asking if I wanted to get back into it and I had to sit there and kindly decline.

Because when those trips were being rescheduled, my personal life was basically an Olympic sprint through a hurricane. I had just bought my first house (hello, mortgage stress!), I had just had a baby (hello, never sleeping again!), and I was trying to figure out how to turn a passion for cured meats into a real deal business.

I’ll probably never go again, if I’m being totally honest. My life is here now. But sitting there across from him, I realized I had completely forgotten about the life I lived before everything got so chaotic. I forgot that I used to be "Mission Trip Abby." I genuinely forgot all the great things I’ve done in my life. (Is that a millennial thing? We’re so busy hustling for the next thing that we just... delete the archives of our own coolness?)

The Realization: It’s All Nurturing

I spent so much time in Honduras nurturing those kids, trying to give them a leg up with education and healthcare, making sure they felt seen and cared for. And then I pivoted. I became a cheese board maker. On paper, that sounds like a total 180, right? From international aid to grazing tables.

But as I was driving home from that lunch, it hit me: I am just a nurturer at heart.

I haven't actually changed who I am; I just changed the medium.

When I’m hand-selecting the perfect aged cheddar or making sure the grapes are extra crisp for a date night, I’m still trying to take care of people. When a client calls me stressed out about a graduation party and I tell them, "Don't worry, I've got the food-grade paper boxes ready, it’s going to be beautiful," I’m nurturing them. I’m taking a weight off their shoulders.

I’m surprised I pivoted, but also... I’m not? It makes perfect sense. Feeding people is the ultimate form of nurturing. Whether it’s a hygiene bag in Honduras or a snack box for a road trip, it’s all about making sure someone else feels good.

Remembering the "Old You"

I think we all need that reminder sometimes. We get so bogged down in the "daily do"..the laundry, the emails, the constant mental tally of how many crackers we have left in stock, that we forget the big, brave things we’ve done.

I miss Honduras. I miss the mountain air and the way the kids would light up when they got their bags. But I love where I am now, too. I love that I get to be the person who makes your Friday night a little bit more special. I love that my "chaos" now involves trying to fit 18 different selections into a graze bar without it looking like a jigsaw puzzle gone wrong.

And speaking of staying grounded, I’m actually really proud of myself for sticking to my workout routine this week. Even when I felt like lukewarm soup on Saturday, I showed up for my body. It’s been such a non-negotiable win for me lately. Those dopamine hits hit. Or, listen... does anyone want to start a rollerblade crew? Let’s get moving together.

So, if you’re feeling a little meh or like you’ve lost touch with the "cooler" version of yourself, the one who did big things before "life started lifing," take a second to look back.

You’re still that person. You’ve just evolved.

You’re still a nurturer. Or a builder. Or a dreamer. You’re just doing it in a new way. And maybe you need to hear this the same way I apparently did, sitting there replaying old versions of myself on the drive home: YOU are the prize. Repeat it until you believe it.

Anyway, that’s my deep thought for a Sunday night. Thank you again for being part of my life. Whether you’ve been here since my first messy board or you just found us today, you’re part of the reason I get to keep nurturing people.

Go get some sleep. Drink some water. (And if you’re looking for a sign to book that cheese board workshop to learn some new skills... this is it. Let's be nurturers together.)

XX,

Abby

Song of the day: Who’s that calling? - Olga Myko

It’s been an interesting journey acknowledging that the version of me building walls in Honduras and the version of me building grazing tables are two sides of the same coin. I’ve realized I don’t need to answer every call from who I used to be, because the work I’m doing right now, nurturing you, feeding you, and showing up for myself, is just as meaningful as the work I did then.

K, bye.

That’s me… 😆

These built ins are 🤌🏽. Still have another one to fill up.